


Tease

by LokelaniRose



Series: Pet Names [3]
Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Episode Tag episode 5, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting the dicking he needs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Oral Sex, Poor angry Type, Rough Sex, To be clear there's no non-con if you've watched the series you know what the reference is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 08:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokelaniRose/pseuds/LokelaniRose
Summary: Tharn is holding his foot and looking up at him with intense eyesRussian Translationhere
Relationships: Tharn/Type (Love by Chance)
Series: Pet Names [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538017
Comments: 34
Kudos: 1151





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 5 didn't give us confirmed naked smooches, so I picked Tharn's Prince Charming moment as this week's sexy outtake fic. And I finally wrote Type’s point of view, which is mainly anger, denial and a lot of swearwords to be honest…enjoy!
> 
> Also this fic is partly inspired by this MewGulf vid (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hGgRUtIDBvE), check out at about 3 minutes in when they’re comparing hand sizes…god I have such a hard on for Mew’s hands lol, just in case anyone wasn't able to tell from this fic
> 
> I've shoved all these fics into a series to keep track of them easier - in case anyone hadn't figured out what the titles were alluding to it should be pretty obvious now!

Tharn is holding his foot and looking up at him with intense eyes and all Type can think is:

_How the actual fuck did I get into this situation?_

Tharn is just…Tharn is just…ugh! Only Tharn would go from ‘I can’t live without you’ to being okay with ‘casual lovers’ to kneeling on the floor like Prince Charming in ten minutes flat. How is Type supposed to keep up with all of this? He can’t keep his brain working straight any time Tharn is within three feet of him, let alone kissing his mouth and his neck and down his chest and making his heart do that stupid thumping thing and Type is starting to think he might seriously need to go to a doctor for that because that shit isn’t normal.

But seriously, who kisses someone else’s feet like that??

_“At least this casual lover is yours.”_

And why does Tharn have to always _look_ at him like that, like Type is…is…

His heart seems to have stopped completely now and there’s a smile that he can’t control starting to spread across his face so Type does the only thing he can think of to stop thinking about everything and grabs the front of Tharn’s shirt to pull him up into another kiss.

Type is secretly worried that he’s not very good at kissing. Girls always seemed to like it in the past but lots of them just liked being seen with him because he’s tall and okay-looking and Type was never quite sure of what he was doing with them. Whenever he kisses Tharn – not that he does it that often! Only a couple of times when Tharn is being all stupid and ignoring him or whatever – then it’s always a bit clumsy and off-centre.

It’s always so much better when Tharn is kissing him.

Tharn takes over almost immediately, his hand coming up to hold Type’s face in place as he slides his tongue into Type’s mouth. Type feels himself shiver a little at the coolness of Tharn’s ring on his face. He likes the feeling, likes how it makes his stomach give a little jump each time, makes him think about how strong and big Tharn’s hands are and how cool and masculine the ring looks on his thumb. He pulls his mouth away from Tharn.

“Touch me,” he blurts out, the words in the air before he can think about them. Tharn blinks and then grins at him, the smile that’s half sexy-smirk and half puppy-happiness. But not fake. Tharn never gives him the fake smile.

“How do you think casual lovers touch?” Tharn asks, still with that stupid grin. “Is it different from sex friends touch?”

“You’re such an arsehole.” Type complains. “I should stop touching you at all.” He wishes he could, wishes he could shove Tharn off him, tell him he doesn’t want it after all. But he’s been half-hard since Tharn kissed his throat and _fuck._ He’s really missed having sex.

Tharn gives a little laugh and kisses him again, moving Type till he’s almost – almost! He’s not a bloody girl – in Tharn’s lap. He’s got his hands firm on Type’s hips and Type gives a little wriggle to test his grip, feeling the press of Tharn’s fingers as he tightens his hold. The kisses are making his head spin but he can feel Tharn hot and hard against his thigh and he pushes down against it.

“So eager.” Tharn murmurs. His eyes are dark and Type has to swallow hard.

“So horny,” he counters, and Tharn just chuckles deeply. He’s looking away now – thank god, that weird intense stare thing is so unnerving, Type doesn’t like it at all – but only so he can undo each button on first Type’s shirt and then his own, slipping them off and pulling Type closer so they’re chest to chest. His arms are so strong. Type feels himself shiver and then immediately a spike of anger when Tharn smirks at him again.

“You’re supposed to be the top, warm me up instead of laughing at me! Arsehole!” He snaps, and Tharn just laughs some more and then Type’s shoving him back on the bed before he even thinks about it, flinging a leg over to straddle his hips.

Tharn is laid out before him and goddamnit, why does he have to be so good-looking? His skin is paler than Type’s, the muscles of his chest and arms firm and hard. Type glares down at his face, at his stupid perfect cheekbones and laughing eyes and his mouth…

Type blushes. He’s thought a lot about Tharn’s mouth the past couple of days, frustrated and horny and missing Tharn when he was away. Missing sex with Tharn! Not him, just the sex. And his mouth. God Type always falls to pieces when Tharn has his mouth on him…

Type is opening Tharn’s trousers before he realises. Tharn has gone still underneath him and Type is looking down at his fingers as though they belong to someone else, which frankly would make more sense right now because Type isn’t sure he’s controlling them consciously, doesn’t think it could possibly be him who’s working down the zip and reaching under Tharn’s boxers and pulling out his cock.

He’s only touched it once before. Last time, Tharn had taken his hand and made him hold it, whispered to him how to stroke it to get Tharn hard enough to fuck him and Type had gone red like a fire engine and done it, felt it get thick and hard in his grip and watched Tharn bite at his lip to hold in his moans. Tharn’s already hard as a rock this time, his eyes gone completely black as he watches Type, and Type has no fucking clue what he’s doing but he ducks down and puts his mouth over the tip.

He didn’t think he’d be okay with this. He’d thought – he’d thought there’d be no way that other memories wouldn’t break through, things he’s spent a lifetime trying to forget, the touch he tries to scrub off his skin every single day. For a split second they do break through and he thinks he’s going to puke, scream, sob, run – but then Tharn moans, low and desperate, and grabs at Type’s hair and Type knows that voice, knows that touch, knows the feel of that silver ring cool on the side of his face and it’s okay. It’s okay.

It’s Tharn.

“Type, Type, _fuck!_” Tharn says, his hips jerking with how hard he’s trying not to thrust up into Type’s mouth. Type pushes down on his hipbones to make sure he stays still and gives another lick. Then another. Then a suck. Each one makes Tharn make another sort of noise, his hands stroke harder over Type’s head. Type feels completely out of his depth and also this tastes kind of gross why the hell does Tharn always do it for him – but hearing Tharn groan deep like that is kind of cool.

“Fuck, Type, your mouth…”

“What? What about it?” Type pulls off to say, and Tharn actually _whines._ Every muscle in his stomach is standing out and Type wants to bite them so he does, feeling the skin soft and warm under his mouth. Tharn makes a sound that almost sounds like a snarl.

“You little tease. Your goddamn fucking mouth is so good, put it back on my cock.”

Type feels soft and fluttery even as his face goes red and he doesn’t know why the fuck he’s doing what Tharn tells him except he’s ducking his head to take Tharn’s cock back in his mouth, a little more this time, pulling off to lick gently along the sides and at the tip. Tharn has flung an arm over his face and his other hand is on the back of Type’s neck, warm and immovable, gently guiding Type into the rhythm he likes.

This is gross and Type has no idea why he likes it as much as he does. His own cock is so hard it actually hurts where it’s pressing against his zip and – and – and this is good, but, Type…he kind of wishes they were doing the other thing. Fine, so he likes this, obviously it’s awesome making Tharn beg for it for a change but…he likes the other thing too. Likes Tharn over him. Likes Tharn…in him.

He’s thinking about it, remembering the feel of Tharn inside him, and forgets to pay attention to what he’s doing. He sucks too hard and Tharn jerks up and Type feels his cock hit the back of his throat and immediately pulls away, gasping at the sudden bitter-sour terror taste that makes every muscle tense.

“Type, Type, I’m sorry –” Tharn is saying, his arms holding him instantly and Type relaxes the second he feels Tharn’s grip on him. The rest of the queasy dread lurking in the pit of his stomach he shoves way back down, ignores it like always, because _fuck it_ – Tharn is still unfairly stupidly handsome in front of him, all his muscles tight and his cock jutting out of his trousers still wet from Type’s mouth and Type hasn’t had sex with him in _a week_ and all his stupid fucked up memories can get lost until he’s had an orgasm or two and Tharn’s arms are tight around him keeping the nightmares at bay while they sleep.

“Did you get lazy when you went back home?” He snaps, swallowing hard to get the sour-fear taste out of his mouth. Even Tharn tastes better than that. “Does your family spoil you so much that you thought you could come back and I’d do all the work?”

Tharn stares at him, that expression that says he’s half-irritated and half-turned on – and when the hell did Type get so good at reading his face anyway? He always thought Tharn was all aloof and in control – and then before Type can blink he’s flipped them, has Type pinned beneath him.

“Is this what you wanted?” Tharn breathes out, putting his face against Type’s neck so he can breathe him in. Type doesn’t have any fucking clue why it makes him relax so much when Tharn does that. Is the other boy half cat or something? Fucking ridiculous. “You want me to hold you down and fuck you, hmmm?”

“Do whatever you want, just get on with it.” Type says, faking a yawn. Tharn smiles at him and he feels a little bit nervous, because actually come to think about it provoking Tharn has never worked out that well in the past and maybe he should stop – “Woah!”

Tharn yanks his trousers and boxers off in three seconds flat and then drops his own, climbing back on top of Type so that all their skin presses together and Type goes boneless under his weight.

“I know what you want.” Tharn mutters, pressing kisses along his neck. “I’ll take care of you.”

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Type’s so horny he can barely think and Tharn seems to be goddamn everywhere, his teeth on Type’s shoulder, his chest, his hips, as his fingers stretch him out so roughly it sends little shivers up and down Type’s spine. Tharn’s hands are so big, so much bigger than his, and they feel so good as they roughly grope every bit of him.

Then Tharn flips him over and Type has to gasp as the other boy presses up against his back. He swallows hard at the feel of the cock sliding roughly against his arse. Goddamnit he wants it in him.

“What are you waiting for?” He snaps, trying to elbow Tharn in the ribs. Tharn just laughs. He’s taller than Type too, bigger and stronger and he’s pressing him down so fucking easily, he could do whatever he wanted to Type and Type couldn’t stop him. They’re in broad fucking daylight, the middle of the day, any of their neighbours could be pressing their ears up against the wall and Type is lying here helpless under Tharn, waiting to get fucked.

Type can’t bear to think about what it means that he likes that.

“Did you miss me in you?” Tharn is murmuring low and dirty in his ear. “Did you miss my cock in you whilst I was away? Did you put your fingers in yourself and pretend it was me?”

“No!” Type says, but his voice cracks halfway through the word and Tharn goes deadly still against him and fuck he can feel his face going red, he’s going to die from embarrassment and Tharn is never going to touch someone so pathetically desperate again –

“How are you so goddamn perfect?” He hears Tharn moan, and then the other boy has a hand on his shoulder to hold him still and he’s pushing inside, shoving his cock up inside Type till he can’t go any further, forcing his face into the bed, and Type can only gasp for breath at how good it feels, not being quite sure whether the pleasure comes from Tharn’s cock or Tharn’s words.

“Tharn,” he moans, because he wants, he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants but Tharn knows, he always fucking knows and he’s covering Type instantly, his chest warm against Type’s back as he starts to move his hips, driving into him.

“Ah, Type, god. God, I love being inside you.” Tharn is gasping out, pressing kisses against the back of Type’s shoulders and Type feels completely overwhelmed by him, clenching his fists in the covers and just taking it. Tharn’s cock feels amazing inside him, thick and hard and –

“Harder.” Type gasps out.

“Harder?” Tharn’s hands are so tight on his hips Type can feel every fingertip like a bruise. “You want me to fuck you harder?” He’s stopped entirely now, the arsehole, the whole of his cock shoved up inside Type and it’s so goddamn frustrating, why the hell isn’t he moving already?? Type can hear this high needy noise coming out of his own throat and he doesn’t have any control over it, or over his hips which are twitching, trying to push back on Tharn.

“Just move!”

“You want me to move? You want me to fuck you?”

“Goddamnit Tharn – _please.”_

“Fuck, Type, you’re so pretty when you beg.” Tharn says, and Type would punch him if they were face to face or even if he could breathe with how hard Tharn is fucking him now, so hard it _hurts,_ a throb deep inside that Type knows he’s going to feel for _days. _He’s so close to coming, can feel his cock jump every time Tharn hits that perfect spot inside him and even better he can hear Tharn groaning deep in his chest in that way that means he’s about to come too.

“Ah – ah – Tharn, Tharn – please.”

“You going to come for me? Going to come from how much you love being fucked?” Tharn asks, and the arsehole’s still got a hint of smugness in his voice and it’s so goddamn unfair! How he’s always in control even when Type is whimpering and split apart on his cock, going out of his mind with how good it feels. He wants Tharn to lose control too, to be as overwhelmed as Type is…

“Just you.” He gasps out, and Tharn bends down to hear him better, pressing hard kisses down the back of his neck.

“Tell me.”

“Just you. Just you fucking me.” Type gasps out, hating how much every word is true but _fuck, _Tharn is losing it, gasping helplessly as his hips jerk and grind into Type and _oh my god that bastard _he’s coming inside Type, Type can feel it and it’s gross it’s disgusting it definitely is, Type can feel Tharn hot inside him and shivering with pleasure against Type’s back and then he squeezes his own hand around himself and he’s coming, he’s coming, oh god it’s so good…

He hasn’t been sleeping very well the past few days. That’s definitely the reason he zones out for a few minutes. When his brain comes back online Tharn has pulled out – god Type is aching inside, it feels so good he can’t even handle it – but has collapsed back on top of him without going anywhere, too hot and too heavy and too sweaty and Type doesn’t like it at all.

“Get the hell off me.” He mumbles. He’s not even sure Tharn can hear him through the bedcovers but his – his casual lover, that’s what he is – gives a low groan and rolls over to one side. Type is suddenly very aware of the bright afternoon sunlight all around them. He peeks over at Tharn with one eye and his chest does a funny jumping thing at the sight of the other boy shining in the light, eyes closed and chest heaving.

“Is that the sort of touch you were after?” Tharn asks without opening his eyes. Type glares at him.

“You came in me.”

Type feels a bit better with the way Tharn winces and looks apologetic. He should be! Type can still feel the phantom warmth inside him, as though Tharn is still there. It’s gross and he definitely doesn’t like it at all.

Tharn is already rolling back over on to him. He’s always ridiculously nuzzly after sex – as though he isn’t the rest of the time! – but his kisses feel nice on Type’s shoulders

“Did you miss me baby?” He murmurs, giving a gentle bite to the side of Type’s neck. Type feels his cock twitch against the bedcovers.

“Don’t call me that! I’m not your girlfriend.” He gripes, but Tharn is stroking a large hand up and down his spine and it feels so good. Everything Tharn does always feels so good. “And you know I missed you – missed having sex with you!”

“I missed you too. I really can’t live without you.” Tharn says, kissing down Type’s jaw till he finds his mouth and they kiss long and slow. God Tharn is such a good kisser, it’s so unfair. Why is he so good at _everything??_ No wonder Type is so addicted to the sex. Anyone would be.

“I need to shower,” he grumps. He don’t know why he says that, except –

“I’ll join you.” Tharn says instantly. He pushes up from the bed, muscles standing out in his forearms, and Type doesn’t know if he could stand right now because for some reason his knees have gone weak. Tharn disappears into the bathroom to start the shower running and Type just lies there, feeling the imprint of Tharn’s hands on his body like a brand and a shiver like electricity running through him that he can’t put a name to.

Type has spent most of the last ten years trying to avoid looking inside his head. Even through all the years of therapy his parents sent him to, he never needed anyone to tell him that there was something wrong there, something wrong with him, some nastiness left on his skin in the shape of someone else’s hands that was never going to come off.

It’s still not come off, but somehow it feels like Tharn’s leaving his own marks, softer, fiercer, deeper, replacing the memories of those other hands with new ones. Marks that Type wants on him, that he’s chosen for himself and that make him feel_ so good._

Type doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to live without this either.

He feels sick and angry at the thought, and tired at how sick and angry he feels, and then angry again for feeling tired. He’s been angry for so long that he can’t remember what other emotions taste like without it flavouring them, bitter and sour on his tongue. Such a similar taste to fear. Maybe he can't remember the difference between being angry and being afraid any more either.

Tharn tastes like honey and chilli sauce, mellow and sweet but with a kick, healing and exciting at the same time. 

“Are you coming?” Tharn asks from the doorway. Type feels his face heat up again – he can tell from how Tharn’s standing, propped against the doorway still naked as the day he was born – that Tharn’s been looking at him lost inside his own head for a while.

“I wasn’t thinking about you, don’t think that I was.” He hedges, limping over – and screw Tharn, that arsehole, for how his eyes go dark again as he watches Type limp. “And don’t look at me like that.”

Tharn says nothing, just grabs him round the waist, kisses him slow and deep. Type’s braced for a smart-arse remark, can feel his shoulders hunch up against it, but Tharn just pulls him into the shower, washes him all over with kisses in between, and Type doesn’t understand how he does it, how he goes from fucking him into the mattress to treating him like treasure in ten minutes flat.

“I like being casual lovers.” Tharn murmurs, winding his arms around his waist from behind. Type can feel his ring against his skin, warm from their shower or maybe their body heat, pressed together.

_Would you like being boyfriends more? _Type doesn’t ask, because he already knows the answer that Tharn would give.

He’s just not sure what his own answer would be.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I’m really looking forward to these two sorting their shit out and me getting to write some soft loving caring sex at some point


End file.
